Laments of a Prince
by agent iz hyper
Summary: "What's it like?" "Sorry?" "What's it like?" Arthur asked again, this time more persistent, even bordering on desperation, as though he needed to hear the answer to his question. "To have… to have a mother? What's it like?" One-shot. Purely friendship.


**Laments of a Prince**

Merlin was fixing up Arthur's room as per usual when the prince spoke. It was the first time anyone had heard him speak fully since his father's passing three days ago. He'd been almost completely silent and rather anguished; the king's decent into madness and eventually death followed by his own duty to take charge of Camelot had taken its toll on the prince. Merlin would be lying if he said he wasn't slightly worried for him; not to mention the fact that it was a lot more miserable these days without the entertainment of their daily bickering.

"What's it like?"

The question was so sudden that Merlin almost dropped the armor in his hands. He steadied himself and placed it on the ground before turning slowly to the prince. Arthur wasn't looking at him; he was seated on the edge of his bed, elbows on knees and hands clasped in front of him, his gaze on the opposite wall in a dazed way.

"Sorry?" Merlin asked slowly, puzzled. He took a couple of steps forward then hesitated, and stopped.

Arthur was silent for a few moments, and his servant feared he would remain silent as before, but it seemed the prince was just lost in his trail of thought. He sat up slightly straighter and looked Merlin in the eye, and the latter was surprised at the sheer _volume_ of the emotions swirling in the blue eyes.

"What's it like?" Arthur asked again, this time more persistent, even bordering on desperation, as though ne _needed_ to hear the answer to his question. "To have… to have a mother? What's it like?"

Merlin was so thrown by the unexpected query that he took a step back, a look of complete surprise on his face. Then he took a proper look at the sight of his friend's almost determined anxiety, mingled with an old pain that had never faded his whole life, and fixed his expression. Merlin hesitantly went over and sat next to Arthur, unsure of how to answer. It also didn't help that Arthur's _hurt_ gaze was almost… beseeching? Pleading, to know.

"It's… not something any amount of words could describe," he started softly, staring down at his hands, seeing in his mind's eye his mother's face; worried, anxious, proud, loving. "The feeling you have knowing there's someone there for you … who loves you more than the world; who would _give_ and _do_ anything in the world for you to be happy and safe. It's nothing anyone else can offer, or come close to offering." He chanced a glance at Arthur, who had resumed his staring at the wall, now with a more closed-off expression. He stayed quiet, and so did Merlin, wishing he could say something to make his friend better. But losing a loved one was never easy. He could understand his line of thinking; if he was in the prince's position, he would want to know too, even if only to distract himself from thinking of his recently deceased father more than he wanted to.

"You said once," he finally said quietly. "That you never knew your father either…"

"I've met him. Once."

Arthur stopped and turned his gaze back to the raven-haired boy, a touch of curiosity in his eyes. "When…?"

Merlin's eyebrows contracted and he looked down, closing his eyes briefly. "Last year," he muttered. He could sense Arthur's unspoken question; _what happened?_ "He died shortly after," he added, a brief catch in his voice at the word. "Killed, actually."

There was silence between them again, and this time it was Arthur who was trying to find the right words to say. Eventually, he muttered, "I'm sorry to hear." A pause, then – "Why didn't you tell me?" He was confused – a rather new emotion to these past few days. _Why wouldn't Merlin tell him about something that important?_

Merlin gave a small, ironic smile – though Arthur failed to see the humor in the situation – and shrugged slightly. "There were … more important matters going on at the time." He willed himself not to think of the destruction and havoc that had befallen Camelot during that time.

"Still," Arthur persisted, sitting up more properly by now and looking a bit more like his usual self. "I'm your—You could've told me. Should have." He stumbled slightly on the words – _did he really just almost say-?_

Merlin caught it too, and stared at Arthur for a second, before a smaller version of his old teasing smile appeared on his face. "Aw, I didn't know you cared, Arthur."

"Shut up, _Mer_lin."

But the ghost of a smile on Arthur's face was all Merlin needed to see to know that he'd succeeded (yet again) in cheering his friend (just because the prat didn't like to admit it, didn't mean _he_ didn't) up. And that was all he could ask for, for the moment anyway.

"You've said it yourself before – I don't know how to," Merlin quipped, eyebrows rising mockingly. He laughed slightly as Arthur shoved him good-naturedly.

"Go polish my boots or something, idiot," he said, rolling his eyes, but not quite able to stop the smile slowly growing on his face.

Merlin got up and sent him a cheeky grin before he left with a "Sure thing, Sir Prat".

Arthur chuckled to himself and stood, stretching as he did so. The grief was still there; that wouldn't fade for a while yet, it was only natural. But he felt considerably lighter than he had in days (though it felt like weeks, really), and he marveled at how that _clumsy idiot_ managed to do that.

_But then again, it _is_ Merlin_, he thought to himself, a smile lifting up a corner of his mouth. The idiot's happy-go-lucky cheeriness tended to be infectious.

_**.:':.**_

A/N: The result of me re-watching a couple of _Merlin_ episodes. Namely, season 1, episode 10 (The Moment of Truth) and season 2, episodes 8 (Sins of the Father) and 13 (The Last Dragonlord). Very emotional episodes, those are. I don't know how this fic was; it was gunna be a drabble but I couldn't fit the convo I wanted them to have in such a short word-limit.

What do you think? (And yeah, the title's very unoriginal, but I'm tired and sleepy, so I'll change that later). So leave a review, please? I'd like to hear your thoughts. :)

Cheers,

~izzy


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